


Dreams Do Come True

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-28 07:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: Leaping leads Sam's life in a totally different direction than he ever could have imagined. Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way we expect, yet better than we could have dreamed.  A different take on who these characters are.





	Dreams Do Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 1993.

When the quantum leap effect faded and I was once again in another place and time, my adapted instincts kicked in and I immediately took a swift look around, taking in as much of the scene before me as I could.

I was alone, which was good. It meant I'd have time to breath and get my bearings before I was called upon to pretend I was someone I'd never met.

I was in some kind of study. The place was in total shambles. Books and papers lay strewn around the floor, the wall was splotched with something that might have been coffee, and a shattered mug lay in pieces on the carpet under the spot.

If I wasn't alone, I would have thought a fight had taken place. The destruction though, seemed to be from someone unleashing their fury on the nearest target. Since I was the only one in the room, I concluded that the person I'd leaped into was in a bad mood. To put it mildly.

I waded through the mess to the desk. "That's no way to treat a computer," I muttered, righting the precariously dangling monitor.

"You can say that again," a voice piped up.

I nearly dropped the monitor in surprise. "Quit sneaking up on me, Al!" I supposed I should have been grateful that my holographic observer had shown up early for a change.

"He sure has a temper, huh?" Al asked, gesturing around the ruins with his cigar, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

"What's he so mad about?" I asked, sitting down on the desk chair.

Al paused, and I finally noticed that his good humor was a front. He looked worried. "He's having some career problems."

"I wonder why," I snorted. My eyes caught a magazine laying open on the desk, the only thing left untouched. My curiosity piqued, I picked it up and scanned the page it was open to. "Is this guy a cop?"

"No, why?"

I held up the magazine. It was called the Blue Review. "One of the classified ads is circled," I told Al. "It's for police-related jobs at a new community." I glanced at him. "A gay community. Am I gay again?"

Al shrugged vaguely. "What does it say?"

"They're looking for a Chief of Police, a patrolman, and a city manager, for their new experimental community in Northern California. You think he wants to take it?"

"I think he's thinking about it. Things aren't going too well right now."

"Am I here to make that decision for him? To apply for the job?"

Al hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, Sam," he said gravely.

I wondered at the strange vibes I was getting. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said hastily.

My eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you."

"Tough," Al said with a touch of arrogance. "Yeah, something's wrong. This guy's whole future is at stake. The decision you make today will affect the rest of his life."

"What did he do, originally?"

"He didn't take the job." There was a touch of sadness in Al's voice.

"Then all I have to do to leap out, is call the number listed and tell them I want to apply?"

Al nodded vigorously. "Set up an appointment. Then you're out of here."

An easy leap for once? I was game. I reached for the phone, then hesitated, realizing my bladder wasn't going to wait till the end of a phone call.

"What?" Al asked when I withdrew my hand.

"Chill out," I advised, still wondering at his nervousness. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Oh. It's through there," he said with resignation, pointing to a door as he finished his cigar.

I went into the bathroom, turned on the light and glanced in the mirror. Froze, stared...I'd know that face anywhere, even if it had been awhile since I'd seen it. It was my own face. Me, Sam Beckett. Forgetting all about my bladder, I slowly walked back out into the study.

"Al...is there something you're not telling me?"

He grimaced. "Like what?"

I shook my head impatiently, tired of his games. "Like that I leaped into a guy named Sam Beckett?"

Al finally dropped the pretense. His shoulders seemed to droop as he faced me, staring at me almost challengingly. "Yeah. You leaped into yourself." Like he was daring me to do something about it.

I took a moment to ponder the implications of that. Unfortunately, my memory was still Swiss-cheesed. Then my eyes fell on the abandoned magazine and widened. "Why...do I have that ad circled?"

"How should I know," Al said defensively. "You're the genius, maybe for the obvious reason?"

Obvious. "I am gay." It wasn't a question this time. "Al-- please--I have to know what's going on!"

He sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "It's February 8, 1989."

"The year we got the green light to begin Project Quantum Leap," I remembered.

He nodded, gesturing around the room. "But it was close. For awhile there, it really looked like they were going to say no. I was off at a meeting, trying to get them to change their minds and you...you were venting your frustrations with a temper tantrum here at...the house."

"But we did get the funding, so everything worked out okay. Why-- you said I was here to...take the job?" I asked in total confusion.

Al looked away. "You have to take the job, Sam."

"You're not making any sense, Al. Everything turned out for the best."

"Did it?" he challenged, staring me down.

Something about the look in his eyes...full of barely disguised pain.

"You're lost in time, with no way to get back home. You call that for the best?"

For something to do...and because I couldn't stand to look into those eyes any longer, I began picking up the debris off the floor. I reached under the desk to retrieve a framed photograph. It was of Al and me. We were in a tangle of limbs on a couch. My arms were around him and he was sort of...melted into my shoulder. I knew what the picture signified. At that point it wasn't a surprise.

I set the photo on the desk gently, still avoiding the hurting brown eyes. "I've helped a lot of people through my leaping," I told him quietly. "Are you asking me to turn my back on that?"

"You turned your back on _me_ ," he said with a vehemence which hit me like a physical blow.

I couldn't find voice to say anything. I just stared at the photo on the desk.

"I'm sorry," Al finally said, not sounding very sincere. "But sometimes, you have to do something for yourself."

I'd never heard Al talk like that before. I knew him better than anybody, knew he cared about people. He got as involved with helping those I leaped into as I did. I didn't understand what had changed. _Is his pain so bad now, that he'd ask me to..._ "If I don't build the Accelerator and leap, all those people..."

"Listen real good, Sam." His voice took on a brusque tone. "If you don't change history on this leap, you'll be stuck leaping in time, alone. Forever."

I whipped around to stare at him, mouth open in shock. "Are you saying you'd--you're going to--"

"Jesus Christ," he snapped. "If you weren't Swiss-cheesed, you'd remember that I'd never walk out on _you_." I flinched at the emphasis. "If I could help it."

_If he could help it..._ "Al, what's wrong? Is everything okay? Are you okay?" I asked frantically, looking him up and down for some clue as to what was going on.

"You still haven't learned any patience," Al said as if to a recalcitrant child. I subsided into silence, and he continued. "We've got a new president, Sam. He's very popular, and has a lot of clout. And he's keeping a tight control on everything, especially spending."

"Including the Project," I guessed.

"There _is_ no more Project, Sam. Or there won't be, after tomorrow."

"There's nothing that can be done?" I asked incredulously. I was used to Al pulling off the impossible, and I couldn't help but wonder if he just didn't want to try this time.

"There's no way to change his mind because it's not the money. What we're doing goes against everything he believes, he'll never budge. He says it's too dangerous for anyone to be messing around in time, and it's his job to insure the safety of the American people."

"But I'll still be here, in the past."

"He considers you a negligible risk, and expendable. He believes just as strongly as you do about this, just the opposite viewpoint."

I pondered the situation. For Al to admit defeat...well, he'd never done that before. If Al didn't think it was possible...we were doomed.

_I_ was doomed. "What does Ziggy say? Why does he think I leaped into myself?"

"To take the goddamn job!" Al's composure was slipping.

I suddenly got angry. "And sell out all those people, to save myself? I can't do that, and you know it. What are the odds I'll leap out if I don't?"

"Leaping doesn't depend on success," he recited by rote.

And even if I didn't leap out...if I didn't, I'd be home, but not home. Stuck in a never ending circle, throughout eternity? To live out my life from 1989 to 2001, and then bounce back to 1989 again? An eternity of endless looping. It was a scary thought.

I looked up to the ceiling, searching for some help. Something.

"Ziggy says if you do take the job, there's still a 93% chance none of the good you've done will be undone."

My eyes snapped back to Al. "How come?" I breathed, hope flickering.

"Maybe because it's the way He wants it," Al answered, pointing upward. "Because He wouldn't reward all your good work by turning His back on you."

I smiled at Al. He had a point, but... "How about a scientific explanation?"

"Because you already saved them," Al said simply.

I slapped my head in an imitation of the V-8 commercials. "You're right."

"I am?" he asked, surprised.

I nodded. "Besides, I've only been allowed to change certain things. Others, I wasn't able to, no matter how hard I tried. So if this isn't the right choice, then I won't be able to change it."

"Logical," Al agreed.

"But what makes you so sure they'll hire me?" I asked, re-reading the ad. "I don't have any experience being a cop--at least I didn't, before I started leaping."

"With your brains, they'd be stupid not to. Ziggy's giving it good odds. Besides, with a community like that, they'll be plenty of jobs for us to choose. Plenty of opportunity to contribute something."

"It's a big decision," I pointed out. "A major change in lifestyle. Sure you're ready for it?" I asked, glancing up at him through my lashes.

"I guess maybe...maybe I screwed this one up."

"Huh?"

"When I came home from the meeting--and got you calmed down--you showed me the ad. You were fed up, just wanted to live in peace with me, you said. You told me it was only because your brother bullied you that you went to MIT. You'd just wanted to go to Indiana State and play basketball, maybe go back and run the farm. That you'd always done what everyone else said you 'should' do. If you stopped being a genius for one minute, you heard all the voices in your head, telling you, you were wasting your potential, being selfish. I guess I was guilty of that attitude myself."

"You never made me feel as if I had to," I told him.

"No, but I sure as hell constantly filled your head with encouragement. And I..." Al paused. "I didn't listen to you that night. Instead, I laughed at your suggestion, gave you one of my famous pep talks, convinced you we could do the impossible and get the funding. Especially after...I always wondered what it would have been like if I'd _really_ listened to you. I can still hear you now, replay that night in my mind. Hear the wistfulness in your voice, like just being a normal person is the one dream you knew you'd never have come true."

"But will the you in '89 agree to it?" I asked.

Al smiled in an embarrassed, yet sly way. "It wouldn't take much to convince me. I've always wanted...that special someone to share a life with. Marry..."

"Is that a proposal?" I asked, grinning. It didn't even occur to me to wonder why I was so comfortable with the idea when I didn't remember our relationship. That's how special Al was to me.

"Maybe," he said enigmatically, with a glint in his eyes.

"I bet you could get the job as the city planner," I mused, thinking things through. "You're good at that sort of thing, you have the temperament and finesse for it."

"Or I could get the Chief of Police job, you could be 'under' me," Al said with a wink.

I blushed down to my toes.

"They're selling lots," he said with a deep yearning. "We could build our own house."

It sounded...like heaven. "Did we leave anything out?" I asked. It seemed like we'd covered an awful lot of ground for such a short amount of time.

"I love you," Al whispered in answer, in a silky, warm voice.

I melted. Completely. I dove for the phone to make that call...

XXX

Al poured the champagne and handed me a glass. "Here's to new beginnings," he said softly.

I smiled, touching my glass to his.

It was amazing to look back on how life had changed in the last year. From the depths of discouragement, to this happiness. It all started the night I'd been so frustrated at the funding problems we were having with the time-travel project I wanted to get started. I was fed up enough to show the ad for Rodilla I'd discovered to Al, and actually managed to convince Al to try it. The next thing I knew...

We were in our living room, celebrating the final completion of our house, built from scratch, mostly by us. It had taken awhile, between my job working on a cure for AIDS and Al's work on the environment...and it was more like two jobs each, because Al and I never could work on anything without each other. It was something he was used to, though, having spent almost ten years as both a Navy Admiral and a scientist. And me, I'd never had a problem with doing more than one thing at a time.

It was a compromise, I suppose. Neither one of us ever did apply for the jobs they were advertising. We decided to let someone more suited for that kind of work have it. We both had other things to offer, in our own special areas of expertise.

I was living a pretty normal life, and still using the gifts I'd been born with to benefit mankind. A perfect compromise.

A perfect life.

A kiss on my cheek roused me out of my musings. "You're quiet tonight. Having any second thoughts? Regrets?" Al queried.

"About this?" I asked, surprised.

"It's too late to go back now, we've got a whole set of dinnerware," Al joked, but I heard the slight unease behind his flippant words.

I slipped my arms around him. "No regrets," I assured with certainty.

"Never wonder what would have happened if we'd kept pushing for funding for the Project?"

"I know that," I told him. "I'd be working twenty-hour days, and we'd be hiding our relationship from the Navy, living with nothing but stress. I wouldn't be here, in our home. With you. I wouldn't be anywhere I'd want to be." I punctuated my statement with small kisses on Al's face.

"I believe you," he said, running his hand through my hair.

"In that case, don't we have more 'celebrating' to do?"

Al pulled me close, and we melted into one another's arms.

I'd had to learn what happiness really felt like, before I realized it's the most important thing in life. That there's more than one road to travel on our journey through time.

And that life is full of dreams, just waiting to come true.

**The end**

5/5/93

**Author's Note:**

> I'm remembering that this idea was a prompt of some sort... But I don't remember where from. The idea was: there's an ad for a new gay community called Rodilla, seeking the job positions noted in this story.


End file.
